


Confessions and a Bloody nose.

by mnemosius



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff, M/M, templar academy au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4611228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnemosius/pseuds/mnemosius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why do none of Cullen's plans to tell Alistair how he feels about him ever work?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions and a Bloody nose.

Cullen had a problem. It had taken him long enough to realize that the way he thought about Alistair wasn’t the way other boys thought about each other. It would have taken even longer for him to act on those feelings, those urges, if it hadn’t been for the awkward but overall beneficial moment where he walked in on Alistair, er, voicing his appreciation for Cullen. Loudly.

And since then, the two of them had taken full advantage of their status as roommates to enjoy each other quite often, and quite thoroughly. Granted, most of the time it was rushed handjobs, hoping that no instructor was walking down the halls at the time, but every so often, one of the boys was put on weapons-cleaning duty, and nobody ever kept track of the sword oil. Cullen shivered at the memory of the pleasure of those few times. Alistair on top of him, the delicious pressure of having someone else inside him, and the overwhelming feeling of being buried inside Alistair as the other boy writhed beneath him. You could put him at swordpoint, and Cullen still wouldn’t have been able to choose which option he liked better.

The problem, however, was that Cullen liked Alistair for more than his body and seemingly boundless sex drive. He’d enjoyed the quiet smiles Alistair gave him every so often after sex, nothing like the cocky grins or exaggerated pouts the boy gave to everyone else. He loved seeing the part of him that Alistair always hid behind a wall, the kind, honest boy that he was whenever he thought nobody was looking.

And, well, that was the crux of it. Cullen had gone into all of this with a crush - several months later, and the blonde-haired boy was pretty sure his feelings had gone a few steps past trivial, or fleeting. And he wanted to tell Alistair, he really did. He was pretty sure the other boy felt the same way, at least a little - he knew those little smiles meant more than just satisfaction, he’d been awake when once, every so often, Alistair would come back to the room late and just spend a moment resting his hands in Cullen’s soft hair before collapsing into bed. And when Cullen had had a nightmare about the desire demon coming back (and while what the creature had done to him had proved to be quite the experience, the event itself had been absolutely terrifying), Alistair hadn’t hesitated to crawl into bed with him, holding him tight in a hug until the shaking had passed.

But every time Cullen tried to get the words out - and just three words, really, they shouldn’t be this hard to speak aloud- he’d inevitably end up stuttering, turning red, or both, and then he’d lose the nerve entirely. Naturally, Alistair took his stumbling attempts to confess as a simple desire to tumble in the sheets again - and while Cullen didn’t object to this at all, his inability to speak his feelings was getting to be a problem. So far, every time something had happened in their strange relationship, Alistair had been the one to take the first step. Cullen… just wanted to be the one to do that for Alistair, for a change.

So Cullen was determined. This time would be different. This time, no matter how flustered he got, he wouldn’t give up until he’d told Alistair how he felt. He could do it.

The only problem was that aparentlly this was the week when Alistair left for a three-day training excursion with a couple other recruits, leaving Cullen alone to kick around in his room since one of their instructors had gone with them, and their usual daily routine was much reduced. It was only the first day and he’d already cleaned both their beds twice, done sword-and-shield drills more times than he could count, and rehearsed saying the words so many times that the sisters at the Chantry thought he was attempting to proposition all of them. That had been an awkward series of conversations, to be sure. Especially when the whole topic of vows of chastity had been bandied about. Cullen had never been so fervently grateful that Templars had to swear to no such thing.

So on the second day, when Cullen was singing with the rest of the choir before sneaking out the back through the gardens like always, he was expecting another day of agonizing boredom. When, as he rounded the corner, strong arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders instead, he was understandably surprised, and reacted in kind. Without a moment’s hesitation he proceeded to run through the Unarmed-Grapple Escape drill he’d practiced, slamming his head back into his attacker’s nose, then ducking low as their grip loosened before knocking them to the floor with a quick sweep of his leg.

When he finally whirled around to face his attacker, fists at the ready, he was instead confronted with Alistair rolling around on the cobblestones in pain, groaning and clutching at his nose, which was leaking blood everywhere.

“Maker’s balls, Cullen! What in the Void was that for!” Alistair whined, his voice reedy.

“Alistair?” Cullen said, horrified. “Oh sweet Maker, I’m so sorry.” He rushed over to the other boy, helping him to his feet, wincing as he saw the blood dripping down the boy’s face. “I swear, I didn’t know it was you. I thought I was being attacked!”

“S’fine, s’fine,” Alistair said nasally, eyes squeezed shut from the pain, “should’ve told you I was coming.”

“No, no, you idiot, don’t try to shift the blame to you,” Cullen said, helping him to the infirmary, “I shouldn’t have just reacted like that. We’re at a Chantry, why would there be an attacker here? I’m so stupid.” Why did he always have to mess up things like this? Was he doomed to always make an ass of himself so spectacularly?

The nurse was an imposing woman who’d dealt with Alistair many times before, what with his habit of trying a little too hard in combat drills sometimes. She took one look at the boy, who was still clutching at his nose, and then reached up for a small vial of white-green paste that she handed over to Cullen, who pocketed it dutifully. “I don’t want to know what happened,” she said wearily, “just have him hold a bit of these to the side of the wound to keep the bruising down. The blood should stop soon.”

“Thanks,” Cullen replied, and then brought Alistair back to their room, where he then helped the boy sit down on his bed and began to apply the paste.

“Ow,” Alistair winced as Cullen spread the paste over the bloody bit.

“I’m sorry,” Cullen said miserably. “Have I mentioned that recently?”

“Only a few dozen times so far,” Alistair said, managing a grin. “Want to kiss it better?”

Cullen wrinkled his nose. “Blood and medicine is not something I want on my lips, Alistair.”

Alistair’s grin turned wicked. “Why not? You’ve certainly had worse than that from me.”

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” Cullen said, scowling as he felt the prickle of heat cross his cheeks. He swore that he spent more time blushing than not since he’d started rooming with Alistair.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Alistair grinned, dabbing at the rest of the blood with a wet cloth, “you know you love me.”

“I really do,” Cullen agreed, and then froze, glancing over at Alistair, who seemed to have frozen as well, his beautiful brown eyes wide. Cullen buried his face in his hands. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

“Cullen,” Alistair said, his voice odd, “what do you mean by that?”

“I had plans,” Cullen said helplessly. “I was going to tell you, and it was going to be easy, and right, and you weren’t supposed to be injured then, especially not by me. I even rehearsed it, dozens of times.”

“You… rehearsed telling me you loved me?” Alistair said, and Cullen chanced a look at his face, expecting laughter. He wasn’t prepared for Alistair to lean forward and kiss him, cupping his face gently between his hands. The press of his lips was soft and perfect, and somehow more than all the other times Alistair had kissed him before this.  
When Alistair pulled away from him, Cullen was left dizzy and with a smile that stretched all the way across his face.

“For what it’s worth,” Alistair said conversationally, “I love you too, you know.”

“I know,” Cullen said, still smiling. “I just wanted to make sure you knew, too. Though I really wanted to do a better job of saying it than that.”

“Oh,” Alistair said, shifting eagerly on the bed. “In that case, would you like to make it up to me? You could play nurse to a heroic fighter, wounded valiantly on the field of battle.” He fluttered his eyelashes. “You’ll have to check me for injuries all over, of course. It wouldn’t do to miss any.”

“You’re incorrigible.” Cullen said, fighting back a laugh.

“I am,” Alistair said cheekily, already wiggling out of his shirt. “But,” he said, smiling again, that secret smile Cullen had never seen directed at anyone else, “you love me anyway.”


End file.
